Thousands Missing in Gaza as Families Struggle for Answers a Year After Ceasefire

Ten months after the ceasefire took hold last October, thousands of Palestinians in Gaza remain unaccounted for. Their families wake each day not knowing whether their missing relatives lie buried beneath collapsed buildings or are being held in Israeli detention without notification. The uncertainty has become its own form of devastation.

Ahmed al Madhoun was twenty-one years old with Down's syndrome. His mother Majdiya keeps videos of him on her phone—Ahmed cuddling a kitten, his tongue stuck out in pure joy; Ahmed belly-flopping into a swimming pool and emerging grinning. "Everyone was his friend," Majdiya says. "He was loved wherever he went, and he always had a smile on his face." In May 2025, during the height of the fighting, Ahmed went to the local shop and never came home. Israeli strikes were hitting the area that day. Majdiya doesn't know if her son is dead or alive. "My God, I am not at peace," she tells the BBC. "I have not lost hope but whether they find him alive or dead, buried under the rubble, only then will I be at peace."

Her anguish is shared across Gaza. The health ministry reports that more than 73,000 Palestinians have been killed since Israel's military campaign began, including roughly 1,200 since the ceasefire was announced. But these figures capture only a fraction of the true toll. The death count does not include bodies still buried under the rubble—meaning many of the missing are simply not counted. The Red Cross has received more than 5,000 requests to trace missing people who may be entombed in the destruction. Gaza's Civil Defence agency estimates the number of missing at over 8,000. Bodies are being discovered daily. Earlier this month, a mass funeral took place in Gaza City for more than a hundred people killed in an Israeli attack in 2023, their remains only recently recovered and identified after years beneath the debris. The Red Cross says the scale of destruction and the shortage of bulldozers make recovery work extraordinarily difficult. When remains are found, identifying them is often impossible—people have been dead too long, and DNA testing is restricted by Israeli limitations on what materials can enter Gaza.

But disappearance in Gaza carries another possibility beyond death. Over nearly three years of war, Israeli forces have detained approximately 7,000 Palestinians from Gaza. More than 5,000 of those were later released without ever being charged. As of this month, around 1,300 detainees from Gaza remain in Israeli jails without charge or trial, according to the Israeli human rights group HaMoked—and this figure does not include those held directly by the Israeli military. Families are often never told their relatives have been arrested. They don't know where they are or whether they're alive. Rights groups and lawyers must help families search for them one by one.

Aida al Drimli's son Mahmoud disappeared in 2024. She describes him as calm and well-mannered, a young man who loved everyone. His father went to hospitals searching through bodies. Aida couldn't bear it. Then this summer, a photograph appeared on social media showing two Israeli soldiers posing with a blindfolded, bound Palestinian detainee. Aida is certain it's Mahmoud. "From his features, from his forehead, his mouth, his nose, the way he sits, the way he closes his mouth, his hands, his legs from below. He has the exact same features as my son," she says. But a single photograph is not proof. When her husband showed her the image, she felt relief and devastation at once. "I was very upset and my heart was broken when I saw my son looking like that. It was humiliating."

Neither the al Madhoun nor the al Drimli family has any connection to Hamas or militant groups. When the BBC asked the Israeli Prison Service about both men, they said they had no record of holding either one. The Israeli military, which also operates detention centers, did not respond. The families have asked the Red Cross to investigate, but Israel does not allow the Red Cross access to its prison records. Tal Steiner, an Israeli lawyer who works to locate Palestinians who may have been detained, told the BBC that the restrictions have made tracing nearly impossible. "Oct 7th changed everything," she said. "The ban on the International Red Cross and the fact that the ICRC itself holds no lists of people held by Israel means we have to trace them individually one by one, per request by their families. It's a big strain on the ability to find those people, today." For families, she says, the not knowing is the cruelest part. "It's an open wound. It doesn't heal. They have no rest not even knowing if their relative is dead or alive. It's a very difficult mental situation that can be carried for months and years."